A simple mistake that changed the future
by Jacinta Kenobi
Summary: AU. What if Frodo died at the hands of the cave troll? What would have happened to the fellowship and to the ring then?
1. Default Chapter

Samwise Gamgee clutched the pan he was holding, striking an orc solidly across the skull as it rushed at him, his brow covered with sweat that dripped into his eyes. "I think I'm getting the hang of this," he muttered to himself, and turned just in time to see another orc advancing and to knock that one out as well.  
  
He glanced around quickly. Orcs were falling left and right, and yet more still swarmed into the doors, providing more foes to fight. Sam searched the room for his allies, rather than enemies. The first person he saw was Legolas, shooting arrows madly. He spotted Gandalf fighting on the other end of the room. Not far away, Gimli was wielding his axe and letting out low screams of challenge to their enemies. Aragorn was the furthest away, his sword swinging so fast that Sam had trouble tracking it. He spotted Boromir as well, but that was not who he was looking for.  
  
/Where is Mr. Frodo?/ He thought nervously, looking about the small room, searching for the hobbit he had promised to stay with no matter what. He did not spot him nearby, so he looked up to the level above him. The great creature, a cave troll he thought Boromir had called it, was a ways down from him, looking for something.  
  
Sam turned and scurried out of the way of an orc blade, bringing his foe down, and then turned back to where he had been looking before, continuing his search. There! Frodo Baggins scurried around a supporting pole, as the cave troll looked around the other side. Then he disappeared from view as the cave troll pulled back to look where he had previously been.  
  
Sam felt his heart beating madly as he saw the cave troll suddenly spot his master, and roar at the small hobbit, causing Frodo to fall to the ground in fear and scurry back. The troll reached out and grabbed one of the hobbit's ankles, dragging him back.  
  
Sam couldn't seem to find his voice, but his feet still worked, and he started to run towards the troll desperately, but was intercepted by an orc. "Frodo!" He called wildly, but his scream was caught up in the other sounds of battle and went unheard.  
  
"Aragorn!!!" Frodo screamed, and swung his sword at the offending hand of the troll. The beast dropped him with a cry of pain, and Frodo struck the ground below, hard.  
  
Aragorn heard the cry of the hobbit, and turned, fighting his way towards the troll, and jabbing it in the chest with a spear. The troll cried out, and knocked Aragorn aside easily, who struck a pole and was knocked out.  
  
Frodo dashed to the human's side, shaking him desperately, but Aragorn was beyond his reach at the moment. The troll advanced, and Frodo ducked as it swung at him.  
  
Sam knocked the orc aside, his fear rising. He had to get to Frodo. He started for the hobbit, watching with wide frightened eyes, wanting to save him but somehow knowing he wouldn't get there in time.  
  
Frodo turned to run, but the troll stopped him, blocking his escape route. Frodo looked wide-eyed at the beast and scurried backwards. The troll cried out, a call of triumph as it knew it had the hobbit cornered, and then stepped forwards, throwing the blade of it's weapon into the hobbit's midsection.  
  
The metal disappeared in the skin of the small being, the cloth covering the wound as Frodo gasped in pain, his eyes going even wider in his agony. Above him, Merry and Pippin angrily threw themselves at the troll, stabbing at it again and again. The troll screamed in pain and pulled away from Frodo, reaching for the offending youths.  
  
"Frodo!!!!" Sam screamed, tears coming unbidden to his eyes. Frodo did not seem to hear, though, gasping frantically for air, each exhalation labored, his face contorted in pain, his eyes staring forward but not really focusing on anything. He gave a half-cry, and suddenly, nothing could hold him up, and he pitched forward, the blade falling to the side of his body as it was drawn out by the angle of his tumble.  
  
Legolas shot the troll in the throat as it screamed, bringing it down once and for all, but Sam wasn't paying attention as he started towards his friend. Aragorn had come to, and he made his way to the fallen hobbit's side. "Oh no," he whispered, hesitantly reaching for the small limp body and gently turning Frodo over, towards him.  
  
Frodo coughed violently and gasped. Where he had lain before, there was a pool of blood, dark against the stone of the floor. Frodo's clothes were soaked red, and the wound as still bleeding profusely. The hobbit looked up at Aragorn, grimacing once. "Is it dead?" He asked softly, so softly Sam could barely hear from where he was, his limbs seeming to be made of stone as he made his way over.  
  
Aragorn nodded, his eyes glistening in the dim light. "Yes, Frodo. Legolas killed it." He assured the smaller being, laying a hand near the wound, and turning a quick gaze to Gandalf, who stood nearby, and shaking his head ever-so-slightly.  
  
"Good," Frodo murmured, and then stiffened in pain, moaning softly, not seeming to have the energy for anything more. "Sam." He whispered, his eyes shutting for a moment as he quivered, then snapping open. "Where is Sam?" He demanded, gripping Aragorn's arm.  
  
Aragorn looked up to Sam, his eyes filled with deep sadness. Sam hurried to Frodo's side, falling to his knees and clasping the hobbit's other hand. "Here, Mr. Frodo. I'm here," he assured the older hobbit.  
  
Frodo smiled tiredly up at his friend, clutching his hand desperately. "Sam," he gasped out, "Do you remember when Bilbo used to tell us of his adventures and the things he acquired along the way?" He whispered. Sam nodded in response, wondering what Frodo was getting to. "Do you remember how he told us of his mithril coat? The one that was as hard as dragon scales?" He asked. Sam nodded again. "I wish I'd had it." Frodo smirked slightly, and coughed, clenching his hand around Sam's, his eyes shutting against the pain.  
  
Sam remembered all right. He had never tired of Bilbo's stories.no hobbit child did. Maybe if Bilbo had been at Rivendell when they had taken Frodo there to be healed, maybe Bilbo would have given it to Frodo, and the hobbit wouldn't be dying now.  
  
Unfortunately, Bilbo had set off to see the lonely mountain one last time, and so he had not been there when they arrived. And pondering the maybes wouldn't help anything. Sam felt a tear running down his cheek as Frodo gasped for air.  
  
Frodo pulled Sam closer. "Sam." He whispered, his blue eyes wild with pain.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Frodo," Sam forced out past the tears to his friend, leaning closer as it became apparent that Frodo wanted him to.  
  
Frodo drew his free hand to his neck slowly, gasping at the pain it cause him, and drew off the necklace that the one ring hung from. He looked at Sam, his face set at what he was about to do. "Sam," he whispered, "you must take the ring. You are the only one I can really trust with it. The others." He trailed off, gasping, "I am afraid the others might give in to its power. You must take it and destroy it, Sam." Again, Frodo trailed off, and stiffened, his body going ramrod straight as pain lanced threw him, and he moaned. Sam clutched his master's hand harder. "Don't let it out of your possession, Sam.it must be destroyed. Promise me!' Frodo finished desperately as he pulled Sam's other hand to him and wrapped the hobbit's fingers around the ring.  
  
Sam could barely see Frodo as he blinked against the tears, his cheeks soaked. "I promise, Mr. Frodo. I promise." He whispered.  
  
Frodo smiled softly up at him, his eyes softening as a burden seemed to be lifted from him. "Thank you, Sam." He said softly, and then closed his eyes, fighting the pain. Sam held onto Frodo's hand desperately, wiping a hand across Frodo's brow to remove the sweat, soothing the hobbit whenever he cried out quietly at the pain. Both knew he was dying, and Sam knew there was nothing he could do but make Frodo as comfortable as he could.  
  
Around the pair, the Fellowship stood silently, reverently, watching the death of Frodo Baggins, but knowing better than to interrupt. Frodo had asked for Sam, and it was obvious he was taking comfort in the halfling's presence during his last moments, and so they remained quiet and still.  
  
Frodo clenched Sam's hand to himself. "It hurts Sam, it hurts." He moaned, tears coming from his eyes as more precious blood poured out of his body.  
  
Sam nodded his understanding, brushing the dark sweaty curls from Frodo's forehead, trying his best to soothe him. "I know, Mr. Frodo," he assured his friend, "I know. Just lay still."  
  
Frodo nodded, and clenched his eyes shut in pain. Sam cried harder, wishing there were more he could do. "Sam," Frodo whispered, so soft Sam barely heard it, "I am glad you came with me." He smiled at his fellow hobbit.  
  
Sam smiled back, "I have never regretted it, Mister Frodo." He told the dying hobbit. "I have never regretted it." Frodo's smile at Sam's reply was pained but genuine, and then he shuddered once more, clutching at his dear friend's hand, and went slack. Sam knew in a moment that Frodo Baggins of the Shire was dead, and his head dropped as he sobbed softly.  
  
Behind the pair, Legolas sadly lowered his head and began speaking softly in Sindarin, the words echoing slightly in the cavern. "Duath anglenna, a din gell an thee, tithen min. Beleg caul firith an tinni. Idh, arod perian. Thy pent a esta cuio erin ah ammen."  
  
Aragorn watched Sam cry, his face drawn, knowing nothing he could say would make the hobbit feel better. He listened to Legolas' mournful words, pondering the meaning. He stood, looking to Gandalf, and then turned his gaze sympathetically to Sam. "We must move on. There are more orcs on the way."  
  
Sam did not move from the floor, his head bowed, tears dripping onto the stone floor to mix with Frodo's blood, not moving from his cold master's body. "Come, Sam." Gandalf asked softly, but again, Sam did not so much as twitch. Merry and Pippin stood nearby, tears running down their faces, Merry trying to quietly comfort Pip.  
  
"Please, Sam." Aragorn asked, trying to pull Sam from Frodo's body. Sam gave a cry of anger and clutched harder at Frodo. "Sam, we can't stay here!" Sam made no response, however.  
  
Legolas walked up behind Aragorn and placed a hand on his shoulder. Aragorn looked up at the elf, who shook his head softly and started towards Sam. Aragorn looked back to Gandalf, who said very softly, so as no one else would hear, "He will not leave Frodo's body, and we cannot fight him on it. We must bring it with us." Aragorn nodded his understanding, and walked over to where Legolas was gently pulling Sam from Frodo. Sam was protesting, but calmed when Legolas began explaining ever so softly that they were bringing Frodo along. Aragorn kneeled down and gathered the lifeless hobbit into his arms, standing and making his way to the door without a word.  
  
Legolas stood, gently trying to get Sam to get to his feet, but the hobbit would not move. Boromir gave a soft sigh and walked forward, picking up Sam and nodding to the door. "Let's go." He said softly. Sam didn't move or protest as grief was pushed away for flight, the fellowship running for their lives. 


	2. Dealing with grief

Sorry the update took so long!!! I had some trouble with my translation site, and my dad banned me for awhile, but here's the next chapter. ***** The fellowship stood outside the mines, grieving for their losses. Frodo had been killed, and Gandalf had fallen into shadow. Merry and Pippin sat off a ways, tears coming continuously. Sam sat by himself, crying softly and ignoring all outside comfort that was offered. Aragorn knew they had to keep moving, but he hadn't the heart to make the hobbits move just yet. He set down Frodo a ways off, laying a cloak from his pack across the body. They would have to bury the hobbit when they reached Lothlorien, if the elves permitted it. He walked towards the two youngest hobbits, laying a hand on Merry's shoulder.  
  
Merry looked up at him, his eyes red. Pippin lay curled on the ground against Merry, not even glancing at Aragorn. Aragorn squeezed Merry's shoulder, his eyes showing his sorrow. Merry sniffed softly and looked down for a moment, then up again as he seemed to think of something. "In the mines.when.when Frodo.." He hadn't the heart to finish, as Pippin sobbed softly and tears came to his own eyes. Aragorn nodded his understanding, and Merry continued. "What was Legolas saying?"  
  
Aragorn looked surprised at the question, but answered. "It was in Sindarin. He said, 'Darkness approaches, and silence triumphs for you, tiny one. Great burdens fade to twilight. Rest, noble halfling. Your tale and name live on with us.'" He finished softly.  
  
Merry's tears seemed to grow at this, and he nodded before turning his head away. Aragorn sighed, and walked to the edge of the stone plateau they were standing on, looking around. He turned back, shifting his gaze to Legolas.  
  
"Legolas! Get them out." He instructed. Legolas looked to the hobbits slowly, his heart going out to them, but started towards them.  
  
Boromir turned irritably to him. "Give them a moment, for pity's sake!!" He said.  
  
Aragorn turned to look at him slowly. "By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlorien. Come, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli. Get them out."  
  
Legolas turned and walked to the two hobbits, urging them to stand. Boromir tried to coax Sam to move, but the hobbit was having none of it, clutching the ring in his right hand and rocking back and forth slightly, murmuring, "Mr. Frodo." forlornly, his tears dried but the sorrow ever present. Boromir finally sighed and picked up the gardener again, knowing that Sam was not going to do anything for a while yet. He looked to Legolas, who was standing with a hand on a shoulder of both of the standing hobbits, his eyes dark with grief, but his face set grimly.  
  
Aragorn looked to the gathered group. Gimli stood silently behind the others, looking back to him and clutching his axe. He was upset, and, being a dwarf, sought something to release his anger on physically. However, there was nothing, and that was the hardest thing for the dwarf.  
  
Aragorn picked up Frodo, who was now wrapped in a cloak, concealed from view, and nodded for the others to follow, taking off at a fast clip towards the far-off woods, wishing to get as far away as possible from the mines. ***** Legolas glanced around the woods they were traveling through and walked closer to the hobbits. He had no fear that his fellow elves would hurt the hobbits without provocation, which the hobbits would not give, but he still wanted the halflings close so that they would be assured when the Lothlorien elves made themselves known.  
  
He did not have to wait long.  
  
Bows came from every direction, arrows nocked and held in a ready position. Legolas' bow was already out and ready after he pushed the hobbits behind him. He held an arrow tightly in position, and waited for Aragorn to make the first move.  
  
Aragorn held us his hands palm outwards as a sign of peace. He spoke quietly with Haldir, but Legolas was not listening as he watched the elves holding the arrows with narrowed eyes. He didn't trust anyone anymore, not completely, even his own kind.  
  
Finally, the bows went down, and Haldir started to lead them to a clearing near Lothlorien. Legolas lowered his own bow, and guided the hobbits quietly after the rest of the fellowship. ***** Many hours later, Legolas was watching the hobbits settle down for the night. Merry and Pippin claimed an area of the shelter the fellowship had been offered for themselves, deriving some comfort from each other's presence, having nothing else to do but wait. The elves were going to allow them to bury Frodo, but they were going to wait till morning, when everyone had eaten and rested. Aragorn and Boromir were not to be found at the moment, and Gimli was already sleeping.  
  
Sam sat alone, clutching the ring in his palm and staring off into the woods of Lothlorien. Some sanity had returned to his expression, and he no longer looked dazed, but now, he looked as if he would die of grief, as tears ran silently down his face.  
  
Legolas knew that Sam had to deal with his sorrow, and soon, or it would destroy him. He walked over silently, settling himself next to Sam without a word. Sam looked up slightly at Legolas, then down to the ring he held in his right hand as a tear fell from his eye onto the simple band of gold.  
  
Legolas was quiet for another moment, then ventured a few words. "Do not blame yourself, Sam." He said, looking down to the smaller being.  
  
Sam looked up quickly into the intense blue eyes, his own dark with grief. "How can I not? I should have been protecting him!" He insisted, looking away. "I should have been there, and I wasn't. Now he's dead, and I'm here.with the ring." He looked down to the cursed object, and gave a sigh. "How can I do this, Mr. Legolas? Mr. Gandalf entrusted the ring to Mr. Frodo. He knew that Mr. Frodo could handle it. How can I even hope to do the same? I'm just Mr. Frodo's gardener, I'm not half as brave as him." He looked up to Legolas, torn.  
  
Legolas laid a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Perhaps you may not think so, but you are here. You have gone through this journey just as the rest of us, and you have something else on your side, and that is loyalty. You showed more loyalty to Frodo then I have ever seen between two persons before, and I am almost 3,000 years old. That same loyalty will help you to carry the task that was given to you. Frodo trusted you, and with good reason. Trust in yourself." Legolas finished, and looked to Sam, who had closed his hand around the ring. He still looked grief-stricken, but the tears had stopped.  
  
Legolas smiled slightly, glad to be able to help in any way he could with Sam's pain. "Now, sleep, Samwise." He said firmly, guiding the hobbit to the ground and sitting next to him as Sam succumbed to his exhaustion. When he was sure Sam was asleep, Legolas placed a hand on Sam's forehead, his blue eyes kind. "Nin gwetsa an beria thee o i duath presto thy ol. Idh, a nesta. Thee baur an dar bell an brog i caul thee gar an caul." He whispered quietly down to the sleeping figure before sitting a few feet away to watch over the halfing until he awoke. ***** Translation: Nin gwetsa an beria thee o i duath presto thy ol. Idh, a nesta. Thee baur an dar bell an brog i caul thee gar an caul.- I swear to protect you from the darkness disturbing your dreams. Rest, and heal. You need to remain strong to bear the burden you have to bear. 


End file.
